


A Very Ravnican Afternoon With Teysa Karlov

by AdrianVoer



Category: Magic: The Gathering
Genre: Just an average day in the life of Teysa Karlov, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-12-16 11:32:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11827863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdrianVoer/pseuds/AdrianVoer
Summary: Teysa just wants to go home from work. But her horrible, undead Uncle Boris Karlov has requested a moment of her time, and is running late. Just then, The Living Guildpact and his incorrigible boy toy Ral Zarek barge into her office, begging her to judge a friendly duel of spells between the two of them.Where some might see chaos, Teysa Karlov sees opportunity.





	A Very Ravnican Afternoon With Teysa Karlov

Teysa Karlov hated waiting. She considered herself very poor at it, one of few things she was poor in. So here she was, waiting, and, if she said so herself, doing a positively terrible job at it.  
Her uncle Boris was supposed to meet her here, in her office, at 5pm sharp to discuss something of supposed “grave importance”—probably a grand theft, which would turn out to be a rounding error, as usual. But there you go, trust a ghost to not have the most spectacular grasp of time.  
She checked her watch. She was proud of this watch. Not one of those obnoxious Izzet contraptions with crystals and electricity and gears and gears and gears—no, she’d gone for elegance. Why have all these spirits with unpaid debts at her beck and call if she wasn’t going to make use of them? For minimum wage towards working off his debts, the soul of a Mr. Jethrak Peters, once a Golgari apothecary with a gambling problem, worked inside her watch. The watch itself was an object solely comprised of the face and a little box fit for a spirit to squish into. Mr. Peters’ job was to turn the hands in time with the New Prahv large timepiece. If he was ever wrong by more than a minute and she knew of it, he owed her back all the money “earned” and someone else would replace him.  
The watch read 5:26. And Mr. Peters was quite reliable.  
Her door burst open.  
That was the first bad sign. Ghosts like her uncle didn’t bother with such things.  
She looked up, and was greeted with the extremely unwelcome sight of Ral Zarek, in a rare mood. Normally he wasn’t actually so excited that static electricity simply shot right out of his hair at odd intervals, but here he was. “Teysa! Good, you’re here. We need you.”  
Teysa smiled. This smile she internally categorized as her Pleasantly Acidic Smile. “Always a pleasure to do business with any champion. Especially the Pact’s Consort.”  
“That’s not a title, Teysa, and you can’t make it one by continuing to say it.” The considerably more welcome sight of Jace Beleren himself filled in the shadows behind Ral—poorly shadowed thought they were, what with Zarek’s best possible impression of a human lightbulb.  
“What,” Ral rounded on Jace. “Pact’s Consort has a certain ring to it, what’s wrong with that?”  
Jace shuddered. “Say nothing else on the subject in her presence, you have absolutely no idea the havoc she can wreak with a title. Especially a title with poorly stated parameters.”  
“Sounds kinky,” Ral said with a grin, turning to Teysa with an eyebrow wiggle as long as Nivix was high.  
“It’s really not,” Jace protested. “Teysa, we’re not here about that, we’re here because we made a bet.”  
“A bet?” If Jace was afraid of what she could do with a title. “Let me just draw up a quick contract for you,” she said. With a flick of a finger and a flicker of hieromantic power, a generic form sprang to life, words appearing in the middle and infesting outwards quickly…  
“No, Teysa, no more of that,” Jace said, forcibly dispelling the contract before it got anywhere good.  
Teysa rolled her eyes. “Relax. Without your consent nothing could happen. I’m just having a little fun here. What’s your bet about?”  
Ral and Jace glanced at one another, a little twinkle in both their eyes. Ral turned back to Teysa and flopped down in one of the currently-two Appropriate Number chairs on the other side of Teysa’s desk. “Jace and I have had our scraps in the past, and came close to a full on duel during the Maze. But we all know in a fair fight between Jace and I, I’d win. All he’s got is a bunch of escape mechanics and a long-shot win condition. As long as I can keep him from actually gaining full access to my mind, in a position to delete me from my own brain, all he can do is illusion this, counter that. Long before he gets close enough, I’d fucking fry him!”  
“As soon as you get riled up, you’re a one trick pony, and everyone knows it. You’re forgetting I also like to steal spells and turn them back on their casters,” Jace said. “Anyway, Teysa, bias aside, that’s basically it. We want you to judge and referee a fair fight between Ral and I.”  
“Referee?” Teysa whined. “I can’t do anything with that. Referees don’t get anything except paid. I want something better. How about—”  
“More than happy to pay,” Jace drawled.  
Ral drooped his head in mock sympathy. “So sorry.” He pulled a small bag of gold from his personal hammerspace and dropped it on her desk. “I believe that’s the standard rate. Unless you want to go back to your superiors and explain why you turned away a donation to the Orzhov Syndicate. Anyway, Jace and I put our heads together and said, who’s the judgiest person we know? And so we are here.”  
Teysa slammed her cane into an upright position and pushed up from her chair to her full height of five foot four. So what if Ral and Jace both hovered around six feet, she was still bigger. “I take great offense to that remark. You will pay for it.”  
Jace pursed his lips. “The other person we had in mind was Lavinia, but follow our logic here. If we’d told Lavinia the same thing Ral just told you, she’d object internally, but let it go, laugh a bit, and go along with it. Whereas you…”  
Teysa’s eyebrows shot together. He’d pay for that one too.  
“You’re not wrong,” she said, her voice staccato, stabbing at the two miscreants in front of her. She reached up to produce another contract, but Jace countered it, and shook his head. She narrowed her eyes to slits. “Fine. Standard non-lethal wizarding duel rules apply. As the on-site medic as well as referee and judge, if either of you die before yielding, I will forcibly apply a Revivify spell, worth a standard 300 gold pieces for parts and 300 gold pieces for the service, payable to the accounts of the Orzhov Syndicate. If the corpse is beyond the consistency of chunky salsa or the corpse requires more than a minute to reasonably retrieve—the responsibility of the killer, not of the medic—I am in fact certified for a 7th level Resurrection, but it will, of course, cost you commensurate with the difficulty of said spell. If any harm befalls me or my property—”  
“You’ll be paid recompense, yes, yes,” Jace, who had, disappointingly, actually been paying attention, rolled his eyes.  
Ral was absolutely not paying attention and was just tugging at Jace’s clothes. In a singsong voice, he capped her terms with what was presumably an original musical production: “You’re gonna get it, you’re gonna get it!”  
“Terms sound standard enough.” Jace said. Clearly he was already regretting picking Teysa, but Teysa was starting to get into this. For his part, though, from the look in his eye when Jace looked back at Ral, Jace clearly wanted to know who was the better duelist just as much as Ral did.  
Teysa smiled. Screw Uncle Boris. He was late, that was his problem and he couldn’t penalize her for leaving now even if he tried. Watching two cute bimbo boys beating each other to a crisp with magic, that she could get into. She smiled. “Well alright then. I can only assume you’re both proficient in Level 3 Wizard spells and above, so Ravnica City statute requires—”  
Ral interrupted with more verses of his musical masterpiece. “Fighting in the sky-y! Fighting in the sky-y! Against a lighting specialist! You’re gonna fry-y!”  
Teysa smiled. You’re An Asshole, this one was called. “Succinctly put.” She clapped her hands twice, and her own hammerspace vomited forth one of her two bound oni, a hulking beast with skin the colors and textures of water on a moonlit night and hair the color and temperature of ice. She liked to call him Steve, since his real name was rather difficult. She fell backwards into his arms, and he gently caught her. As soon as she touched his skin, she felt his thoughts, as usual: You will break the contract! They always do…and when you do…I will eat your soul!  
Yes, dear, she thought back at him. It’s been what, fourteen years now we’ve been together and I’ve always fed you on time, but it’s good to keep yourself optimistic. Now Steve, if you wouldn’t mind flying me after those two lunatics.  
Of course, mistress…  
Someday he and Larry would discover that part of each of their contracts was a clause requiring that they each fulfill Teysa’s ongoing debt to the other on her behalf, on pain of immediate breach of contract and death. They hadn’t yet, though. She kind of looked forward to the looks on their faces when that day came.  
Jace seemed to be running a standard Fly spell, but Ral instead appeared to be operating a fold-out contraption that strapped to his legs and operated by a remote control in his hand. Hmf, Teysa thought. She should probably get the schematics for that, in case her oni ever decided to suicide pact rather than be stuck in an eternal servitude loop. She had to admit, while Ral lacked a certain finesse, he got results.  
“So,” Jace yelled over the wind. “I don’t want to get fined or anything, so—can I set an illusory copy of myself before the match begins, or—”  
“You absolutely may not,” Teysa yelled back. “For purposes of wizard duels, illusions are classified as combat debuffs, not pre-combat preparation. Really you haven’t checked The Little Book of Ravnican Friendly Combat Law, Magic Edition lately? For my money it’s an essential text for anyone intending to participate—”  
Mistress.  
That wasn’t good. She shouldn’t be hearing Larry’s voice unless there was an emergency.  
What is it, Larry?  
“Teysa? What’s wrong?” Jace asked.  
“You gonna count us in or what, Orzhov!” Ral yelled, zipping about, nowhere near the required beginning distance of 100 meters, of course.  
She held up a finger at Jace and put her other hand to her temple to indicate where her attention lay. Larry continued. Your uncle is in your private apartments, searching for something.  
How are the wards looking?  
Strong, and hidden as usual. Depending on what spells your uncle came prepared with though, they are not impenetrable to a cleric of his skill.  
So that was why the fossil had been late. She looked up, to find Jace’s concerned eyes waiting. How cute. And potentially useful. “Jace, a matter of planar security has just been brought to my attention. My uncle, in obvious violation of trespassing and burglary laws, is currently in my apartment, searching for sensitive information.”  
Jace blinked. “Is there anything to be found?”  
A grimace crossed her face. “Unfortunately yes. My apartments are well-protected, but many of the wards are based on Orzhov rank—it’s too well-subsidized a spell not to make use off. I frankly didn’t expect a member of the Obzedat to actually make use of the weakness so blatantly. If you wouldn’t mind a quick detour, I would very much appreciate your aid in casting him out.”  
Jace bit his lip. “And by casting him out, I take it you don’t mean of your apartment.”  
Teysa nodded. “A binding from all known Material Planes would be my preference.”  
“Hold on,” Ral had floated over to the conversation and probably only had enough detail to hang himself with. “What happens if a ghost is forced into an Outer Plane? They need to pass on within a Material Plane in order to fully materialize on the appropriate Outer Plane, don’t they?”  
Teysa shrugged. “His problem, not mine. I certainly won’t shed a tear over it if you don’t, you know he’s a bad person.”  
“He’s just like you!” Ral interjected. “Apple didn’t fall far from what I hear!”  
“You do business with me, and not him, for good reason” Teysa insisted. “Now are you going to help me or not? The missives I’m most concerned about cover planeswalking in full detail. Written by you, I might add, since you couldn’t exercise a grain of self-restraint even in text. A secret I don’t think you’re quite ready to be shared with the Obzedat, I don’t think.”  
“Fine, fine,” Ral said. “One crispy ghost, coming right up.”  
He dove in the general direction of the luxury apartment complex Teysa owned. He had never been invited there, but she supposed she couldn’t fault him for knowing it was hers, given the flashing “KARLOV SUITES” sign visible from downtown. She and Jace followed.  
The three landed with a variety of levels of grace on top of the building. Somebody left scorch marks. She made a mental note to bill him.  
“Mine is the penthouse,” Teysa began.  
“Of course it is,” Jace muttered, but Teysa shut him up with a glare.  
“I believe,” Teysa continued, “the stealthiest avenue of approach available would be—”  
“RAAAAAAAAAAAAL ZAREEEEEEEEEEK!” Ral, who had not been listening, was of course in the act of crashing through the 35th story window of the penthouse.  
“Oh my god, he just ran in,” Jace murmured.  
Teysa cleared her throat. “Excuse me, he didn’t run. I’d have recommended the term ‘crashed expensively’.”  
Jace shook his head. “Planeswalker thing. Don’t worry about it. Stick to the plan.” With that, he flew off the roof, and down through the recently-applied Ral-sized hole.  
Teysa was left to look back and forth between where Jace had been a moment earlier and Steve. “What plan?” Steve shrugged. “Indeed,” Teysa grimaced. “Let’s go say hi to Uncle Boris.”  
Taking great care not to scratch her on the broken glass, Steve flew her into her apartment—right in time to collide with a Death Cloud.  
Low-level, thankfully. Nonetheless, spirits leapt from miniscule compartments in her every pocket to revitalize her as Steve hurriedly carried her back out of the mess, as she was already performing a quick Ghostway charm to make herself and her oni immune from the effect. She considered taking Jace and Ral with her, but she couldn’t see them immediately, and she presumed they could both take care of themselves.  
Only when the Ghostway was in effect did she select a lucky spirit to cleanse her of the magical rot. “So long, Dierdre,” Teysa murmured as the spirit of Dierdre Florentine busily scrubbed away at Teysa’s ethereal form. Once the job was done, Dierdre extended herself to the floor and folded herself out to the approximate shape she’d had in life to tap her foot impatiently. “Yes, yes. Dierdre Florentine, your debt is paid in full,” Teysa intoned, voice infused with the necessary magics.  
Dierdre was not yet finished exultantly dissipating to whichever afterlife best suited her before Teysa was diving into the Death Cloud to assess the situation. There—on the far side of the room, huddled in a corner without quite so much Death in it, was Ral Zarek in all his huddling glory. She could also see a form in a blue cloak and blue hood choking dramatically in the middle of the floor, but that was obviously an illusion. Teysa knew the symptoms of a Death Cloud-ridden body from her own experiences using the spell, and Jace wasn’t mimicking them particularly well. As for Uncle Boris…there.  
She flew at the desk where her uncle was jiggling feverishly at her top drawer. His spirit depicted a bald, sharp-featured man with the lower half of his face rotted off, dressed in pontiff’s robes that were pierced in three places by bone shards. He didn’t usually look quite so bad—he really had been caught off guard. He had found the drawer he wanted; but he was also, apparently, stupider than she’d thought.  
He glared up at her as soon as he noticed her. “Young lady, you will release me right away. I am no mere debtor, to be trapped and bound for your petty squibbles, I am your uncle and a Councilman!”  
She inspected her handiwork. Uncle Boris had Disenchanted the lock itself with ease, but he had missed the triggered Oblivion Ring on the documents themselves. Both his ghostly hands were stuck in a pocket dimension that had opened just above the letters, and he was spending all his not inconsiderable magical might to not be pulled in entirely.  
“You can come out, Jace!” She called, and with a strange bouncing sound, someone Unsubstantiated the Death Cloud. The fake Jace blinked out of existence, and a possibly real Jace stepped out from the shadows behind her chaise lounge. Ral fell to the ground, gasping for breath.  
“Ugh,” Teysa grimaced at him. His face was bleeding. “Take a healing. On me,” Teysa said, before he could object, as he had seemed about to. “I don’t want you bleeding all over the carpet, it’s an antique. Friedrich, you’re up.” The spirit bustled off delightedly.  
“Councilman Boris Karlov,” Jace was saying. It was always so charming when he tried to be intimidating. “You have been found in the act of petty trespassing and burglary. I can’t say why I thought better of you than this, but I did.”  
Boris leered. “Just my charm and good looks, I guess. Come on, the fact that you’re here tells me there’s something to find! State secrets, kept from the people by the Living Guildpact,” he spat the word ‘Living’ like a curse, “and his cronies! Everyone knows you and the champions of Azorius, Selesnya, Izzet, and even Orzhov have something important cooking, and it’s not right to keep it from the Guild Leaders! Release my hands, and I’ll show you, I have every authority to be here.”  
Jace was raising his hand for some kind of dispel, but Teysa turned and set up a quick Mana Tithe around him. Jace could have overcome it, certainly, but the counter wasn’t the point, and Jace let whatever it had been dissipate into the Tithe. “Haven’t I taught you not to do what a high-ranking member of Orzhov tells you just because they ask you to?”  
Ral, rubbing his fresh, revitalized skin, wandered into relevance, saying “Hate to agree with her, but I’m sure his best nastiness requires his hands. Come on now Jace. We all know you don’t like it, but let’s not pretend you can’t rip this guy’s mind to shreds if you want, he’s stuck here for now. If you want to free him, at the very least Mind Control him first. Though I’m not sure why we haven’t already bound him out of all Material Planes. I think even his ghost is starting to smell straight through the spectral projection,” he sniffed. The lightning mage flopped down on a couple of ottomans, draping himself like a mangy, static-ridden cat.  
Teysa laced her hands together in front of her demurely. “Izzet said it, not me.” She turned to the ghost that had healed Ral and intoned, “Friedrich Anschluss, your debt is paid in full.”  
Boris growled. “Disloyalty. What would your mother say?”  
Teysa cocked her head. “Isn’t she indebted to you still, based on that horrible bridge deal from ages ago?”  
Jace’s jaw dropped in horror, and Boris grinned. “She is. And if you bind me such, my dear sister’s got no chance of ever being released. She owes me more than anyone else on my docket, it’ll take a long time of you being in my good graces before I’d even consider letting her go.”  
Teysa’s mouth twitched in frustration. She didn’t like being one-upped. “How about this. I can leave you here as long as I want. Literally forever is a good option. I’m in full legal rights. Or, we can make a deal.”  
Ignoring Jace’s groans, Boris laughed. “Making a deal with your betters, are you?”  
Teysa sat on the desk, half inside of her uncle. She knew it made ghosts uncomfortable to have their space occupied, especially if they couldn’t move. “I don’t think you’re in much of a position to be claiming superiority here, are you?” she sneered. She snapped out a contract, and read it aloud as she formed it. “I, Teysa Karlov, Envoy to the Ghost Council of Orzhova, Champion of Orzhov and Ravnica, Treasurer of the Order of the Angel, Keeper of the Ward of the Eleventh Pact—don’t ask, you really don’t want to know,” she shot at Ral’s quizzical look, “swear in bond and soul, payable to the Ghost Council of Orzhova if I violate the below terms, to release Boris Karlov, Councilman of the Ghost Council, and Keeper of the Ward of the Fifth Pact, from my lawfully inflicted protective Oblivion Ring enchantment, triggered on this day the fourteenth of June in the Ravnican year one thousand, six hundred and seven, within five minutes of signing, and furthermore do relinquish my rights to pursue charges of burglary or trespassing related to the aforementioned incident leading to the inflicting of an Oblivion Ring, if and only if Boris Karlov releases the soul of Olga Karlov from indefinite servitude and relinquishes all claim to unpaid debts owed by Olga Karlov to Boris Karlov; if such action is not completed by the undersigned, Boris Karlov, within five minutes from when the undersigned, Teysa Karlov, has released the Oblivion Ring, she will take immediate and complete possession of the soul of Boris Karlov.”  
“You can’t possibly expect me to sign that piece of trash,” Boris sniffed.  
Teysa smiled. “I look forward to inviting the rest of the Ghost Council to inspect my new plaything.” She stepped forward further, putting her body right in the middle of his head. Certainly he couldn’t suffocate, but he couldn’t see, hear, smell, or taste anything but her internal organs like this.  
He jerked to the side awkwardly, spitting globules of nonexistent saliva. “You’re gonna have to amend that to include immunity from charges of property damage too. I may have broke a bunch of your spells.”  
“Only if you attend the next Guild Leaders Assembly and apologize publicly in front of everyone there.”  
Boris grimaced. “Ew. How about if I just pay you the price of the destroyed spells.”  
“How about you pay me, before the end of the week, the price of any damages inflicted to any of my property on this day the fourteenth of June in the Ravnican blah blah blah, prices determined by the property owner?”  
Boris reeled back in shock. “You think I’m that stupid?”  
Teysa rolled her eyes. “Fine. Prices determined by a third party. The Living Guildpact. He may be my friend but you can bury him if he overcharges you.”  
Jace blinked. “When did I become involved in this?”  
Teysa turned to him. “Relax, Jace, it’ll just be another document Lavinia writes up for you that you’ll sign without thinking about it.” She turned back to Boris, and adjusted the contract, floating as it was in midair, to the additions they’d discussed, as she spoke. “If you don’t free my mom and get out of this apartment as soon as I drop the Ring, I swear to Orzhova I will make sure you never see a Material Plane or a cent of your money for the rest of eternity. I can break mother’s debt to you given an eternity, whether you’re here or not.”  
Boris just glared at her, but nodded his head at the floating contract, a blob of ethereal flesh dripping from his head flicking off of his jaw, splashing out of existence on the antique carpet. Throwing a hieromantic cantrip onto his voice, he intoned, “I, Boris Karlov, Councilman of the Ghost Council, and Keeper of the Ward of the Fifth Pact, do with full knowledge and consent agree to the above terms.” Letting the cantrip fall, he added, “And you can go fuck yourself.”  
Ignoring him, Teysa added with her own hieromancy, “I, Teysa Karlov, Envoy to the Ghost Council of Orzhova, Champion of Orzhov and Ravnica, Treasurer of the Order of the Angel, Keeper of the Ward of the Eleventh Pact, do with full knowledge and consent agree to the above terms, at,” she checked her watch, “Five forty-eight in the afternoon on June fourteenth, sixteen oh seven.” The words on the contract flashed with binding power. Immediately, with a wave of her hand, Teysa dispersed the Oblivion Ring.  
Boris yanked his hands back away from the drawer, which Teysa pointedly shut, her eyes not moving from his. He rolled his eyes. “You’re a real nasty piece of work, you know that?” He asked. “I’ll find out what it is you lot are hiding, mark my words. Olga Karlov.” A spirit depicting long hair and old, sunken eyes whisked up from his ethereal left boot. “Your debt is paid in full.”  
Unbidden, the words choked from her mouth, “Mom!” But the spirit was gone.  
Boris grunted, a poor facsimile of a chuckle. “Poor baby Teysie. I didn’t realize you were so emotional. You fucking had me, I admit it. But you threw it away for poor stupid Mummie.” He turned, jogged at the window next to where Ral had crashed through it, ran straight through it, and flew away.  
Teysa slumped into her desk chair, jaw clenched tight. She flinched a bit when Ral’s hand rested on her shoulder, but she relaxed as he started massaging the tight muscles of her neck. “That,” Ral declared, “was absolutely smoking hot.”  
Teysa half-smiled. “If you liked that, you should come see me at the pulpit. I’m giving a service this Thursday.”  
He bent down to stage-whisper into her ear. “Wasn’t talking about the contracting. That was okay, I guess. Okay, that was hot too.” He stood back up and moved down to working out the knots in her shoulders. “What I was talking about,” he continued aloud, “was doing what you did for your mother. I literally didn’t know that you cared. About people.”  
She took a deep breath, and let it out. “She was…a good lady. There’s a lot of pretenders in Orzhov, people who give lip service to Orzhova and try to rack up cash for themselves without a care in the world. My mother actually gave away practically all the money she ever made to actually good causes Orzhova endorsed. The bridge deal seemed like such a sure thing. Hells, if Boris had approached me with it, I would have signed it, and I hate my uncle. But I have the cash—I could have paid out of it. She didn’t have it, and died suddenly of mysterious causes two days later. That’s my uncle for you.”  
“I’m sorry,” Jace had come over to sit on the desk next to her. “I didn’t know.”  
Teysa’s mouth twisted in discomfort. “Yeah, well don’t let it get around, will you? To those outside Orzhov, I more than understand why you’d admire it, but neither Boris nor I are really going to benefit if the rest of the Orzhov hear about that deal we just made. Makes us both look weak, to them.”  
“I won’t say anything,” Jace said solemnly.  
“Not a peep,” Ral said, sounding serious for once. “Now. Can we get back to electrocuting the Guildpact?”  
A smile spread across Teysa’s face. “By all means. Let’s start now. You’re on the hook for property damage in this apartment too. I recommend shooting up that armoire over there.”  
Ral rounded on the armoire in question. “The bill’s going to Niv Mizzet, what do I care?” He sent a lazy lightning bolt its way. It scattered off the door, protective enchantments flashing.  
Teysa smiled and shook her head. “Too bad you didn’t break that enchantment. There are artifacts in there worth upwards of twenty million gold. Somehow I doubt you’d have been able to slip that onto Niv Mizzet’s bill without him seeing.”  
Ral, wide-eyed, slowly turned back to Teysa, hands up in submission. “Teysa! Warn a guy, come on now!”  
Jace patted Ral’s back. “Haven’t you heard lately? Never do what a high-ranking member of Orzhov tells you just because they ask you to.”

* * *  
Teysa hadn’t realized that Ral’s hair was actually capable of catching fire from electricity, she mused as he plummeted past her, a quarter of a mile in the air above the Church of Orzhova. And yet.  
Jace shot past her, his flight spell on full speed. He needn’t have worried so, Teysa thought. Ral had had at least another five seconds before splattering to the consistency of chunky salsa.  
As he rose back to Teysa’s hovering height in Steve’s arms, Jace kissed Ral’s temple, extinguishing the remaining fire and soothing some of the surface burns, a worried crease in Jace’s forehead. Apparently, Jace had been studying a bit of healing magic. Hmph. That wouldn’t do.  
“Come on,” Teysa said. “Give him here. You’re clearly a novice.”  
“Nah,” Ral’s voice carried just barely over the wind. “Feels…good. Just get me to bed. Preferably naked. I yield, by the way.”  
Jace looked up. “I think that’ll be the end of our need for your services. Thank you, Teysa. It’s always a pleasure.”  
Teysa cleared her throat. “There is the small matter of proper remuneration.”  
Jace narrowed his eyes. “Remuneration? Ral already paid you.”  
She snapped out a contract, already fully filled out. “I, Teysa Karlov,” she read aloud, “Envoy to the Ghost Council of Orzhova, Champion of Orzhov and Ravnica, Treasurer of the Order of the Angel, Keeper of the Ward of the Eleventh Pact, ‘want something better’ for my services as referee to a magical duel between Jace Beleren, the Living Guildpact and Ral Zarek, Champion of Izzet and Ravnica, and Pact’s Consort. I, Jace Beleren, the Living Guildpact, am ‘more than happy to pay.’ This oral contract was sealed at five twenty-eight in the afternoon on June the fourteenth in the Ravnican year sixteen oh seven, by Teysa Karlov and Jace Beleren, with Ral Zarek as witness.”  
Jace’s lips parted with a sharp intake of breath.  
Teysa burst out laughing. “Don’t worry, I’m in a good mood after that display. How about I get to record images of the reward you just won from Ral.”  
Jace blinked, and looked around. As though they weren’t four hundred meters in the air. “How did you know it was a sex thing?”  
It was Ral’s turn to burst out laughing, as he reached up to stroke Jace’s cheek as he, from the looks of things, started trying to give Jace a hickey. Teysa smiled a bit. She called this smile Total Victory. “It was just a guess.”  
“Really, after all we went through today,” Jace huffed—he was getting tired probably, holding his lover’s full weight and all, “why didn’t you mention this…this contract earlier? How does a contract like that even happen? You can just…do that with anything anyone ever says to you?”  
Teysa shook her head and tutted. “Living Guildpact! Do you not even remember what you say? I didn’t mention the contract before because I didn’t need to. Article four, Section three, paragraph five of the Articles of the Pact clearly state that the spoken word of the Living Guildpact, given with at least one witness, to a rightfully selected representative of any of the guilds, is equivalent to his signature. I merely codified the clause in the form of a spell.” She gestured at the ‘oral contract’ wording. “For your convenience.”  
Jace glowered at her. “Thanks.” He sighed. “Everybody already knows about Ral and I. I guess with images you can take it from open secret to public embarrassment, but it won’t do anything.”  
“Ah, but how much money do you think someone out there is willing to pay for those images? Private collection? Ill-advised attempt to blackmail you? Who knows! I don’t! But I want their money.”  
Ral disconnected himself from Jace’s neck to add, “You were talking about having a bit of an unexplored kink for being seen! Come on, it’ll be fun. And some asshole will get ripped the hell off.”  
Jace looked into Teysa’s eyes, and she met his right back with a smile. She called this one, I’m Only Here To Help.  
She wasn’t afraid of him plumbing her mind for secrets. After today, seeing her throw away a golden opportunity, in order to save her mother—he’d never truly question her morality again.   
Now what, she wondered, could she do with that? 


End file.
